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William Wilson - Poughkeepsie’s Forgotten Poet Are there any poetry fans out there? Have you heard of the work of William Wilson? It's quite likely that you haven’t, as he published much of his work anonymously. In fact, he was known locally more so for his work as a bookseller than for his verse. So we thought we would take the time to share with you the story of his life and some of the works of William Wilson. Born in Scotland near the village of Crieff on Christmas Day, 1801, William Wilson was the son of a merchant. Sadly his father died when he was five and his mother was forced to rely on her skills as a spinner to keep her family a float. Wilson didn’t attend school, but his mother taught him to read before the age of six. As a boy, he took on work at a nearby farm before venturing with his mother into Glasco to find more gainful employment. He managed to work his way into the world of writing and publishing by working for Dundee Review. It was during his time in Glasco when he met and married his first wife, Jane McKenzie. They had four children together but sadly she died in 1826, less than seven years after their wedding day. After a few years of mourning and producing some lovely poetry to honor his beloved wife, he fell in love again and married Jane Sibbald in 1830. By 1833, the couple packed up their lives and came to America where they eventually settled in Poughkeepsie living at #313 Mill Street. Wilson operated a bookstore and Circulating Library at 295 Main Street from the time he arrived in Poughkeepsie until his death on August 25, 1860. He mostly ran the shop on his own with the exception of a few years when he partnered with local publisher Paraclete Potter and later with his own son Archibald. It would be his son Archibald, along with local historian Benson Lossing, who would eventually publish some of Wilson’s poems 8 years after his passing. Lossing also wrote a small biography about Wilson in which he proclaimed that he was “True, just, and honorable in all his dealings” and was a “warm and active friend of the deserving, and liberal to those in need.” Wilson’s widow died in 1865 and is buried alongside him here, as well as some of their children. Three of his sons served during the Civil War, James became a brevet brigadier general, George died at Fredericksburg in 1863, and Walter Wilson, the youngest, also signed up to serve. WANING LIFE AND WEARY. - By William Wilson Waning life and weary, Fainting heart and limb, Darkening road and dreary, Flashing eyes grow dim ; All betokening nightfall near, Day is done and rest is dear. Slowly stealing shadows Westward lengthening still O’er the dark brown meadows, O’er the sunlit hill. Gleams of golden glory From the opening sky, Gild those temples hoary— Kiss that closing eye : Now drops the curtain on all wrong— Throes of sorrow, grief and song. But saw ye not the dying Ere life passed away, Faintly smiled while eying Yonder setting day : And, his pale hand signing Man’s redemption sign— Cried, with forehead shining, Father, I am thine ! And so to rest he quietly hath passed, And sleeps in Christ, the Comforter, at last. (fb)